Chapter 47

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       "I look like a harlot," I deadpanned staring at the mirror, my hair braided over my shoulder with white flowers and clear gemstones decorating it. My hair looked lovely, I liked it, but this dress...

      Looking me over while she slid a black flower into Felix's hair she raised a brow, "Honey, you're wearing far too much silver and far too many gems to ever be mistaken for a harlot," Okay... True, but this was a misunderstanding I didn't appreciate. I was insistent on that outfit because of how durable and flexible it was not because of how tight it was.

       Looking over my shoulder with a frown I found the dress hugged my waist, the recent physical activity showing in my legs and bottom which gave me curves I otherwise lacked.

        Though, the strange contraption she had me put on under my corset did make my flat-as-a-board chest have a small swell that gave the impression that puberty was just a little late. Which is was in all the wrong ways. Couldn't give me a feminine figure but doesn't mind clubbing my stomach monthly. How utterly unfair it was.

         "I do like the neckline," I sighed as I may as well get the best out of any dresses I was going to be forced into in the future.

        "I'm not surprised, you've never been a fan of the shorter ones," She hummed while I ran my finger gently over it as it brushed against my collar bones.

        "Sleeves aren't bad either," I muttered as raised my arms, the sleeves that hung loosely off my shoulders and down my arms completely hiding them. You could, however, see the small scars covering the back of my shoulders and neck. Anyone with a hint of battle knowledge would be able to guess what they were from.

         I didn't want to have to explain and mom waved me off when I suggested hiding them. Saying one should show off their scars and asking if I was a warrior proud of my scars. With a sigh, I had backed down as one doesn't usually hide their scars. 

        Scars are a sign of battle experience, signs of strength, they were beautiful and often shown off for that fact. Nonetheless, one doesn't seek out getting them because no matter how beautiful they are a sign of war and no one wants to be painted with war. Though, from what I've heard the empire doesn't feel the same way about scars.

        They think they're hideous but to be fair they also follow such strict ridiculous rules and roles. Women were to care for children, cook, mend clothes, and if they were lucky, become maids. Which are all meaningful and respected jobs here, they're considered demeaning there. Not to mention men seen in dresses were imprisoned if not killed and women in pants suffering equally.

      I believe they don't even properly teach those that aren't men how to use magic making them practically useless in battle on top of their lack of physical training. They made men superior and blamed others for their weakness.

        If one were to attempt a relationship with anyone other than the opposite sex death was their punishment, they also held strong views on skin color and believed not only that females were below them but there were only two genders. A truly strange place with confusing ideas. Hateful ideas.

      If the war is won we'd have a very large issue with introducing them to our way of living. 

      "What are you thinking about dear?" Glancing at mom I hummed looking back at my reflection, my leg peaking from my dress, the closed white heels supported by a silver heel.

      "The war," She paused in finishing his hair while he too looked my way.

      "Why would you think of such a thing when the festival hasn't even ended?"

      "Don't worry, I wasn't thinking of bloodshed, I was thinking of how our customs differ and how the aftermath of the war would be rather tricky," I smiled laughing gently as I stepped away from the mirror.

      "Well... That's true, doesn't matter who wins, the aggressively different customs are going to cause quite a lot of issues," Felix agreed while I nodded, "I guess we've just got to make sure we're the ones that win, I don't want to think about what'll happen if we don't..." He looked down at his dress before shuttering, "Definitely don't wanna lose,"

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